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“No. Not at all.” She scanned through the property list then tapped the signature at the bottom. “You brought him in. Is this everything he had on his person?”
“Yup.” Except for a certain list of video files. “The sheriff’s office has items from the scene and his car.”
“I’ve been through all of what they have,” she said. “Are you certain there was nothing else on him when you brought him in?”
“Other than clothes, yeah.” I gestured toward a paper bag in the corner. “But I went through ’em pretty good.” I didn’t have to be a brain surgeon to know she was looking for something specific. The flash drive? “You guys sure are quick. Detective Roth said he was going to call y’all this morning about processing evidence.”
“I have nothing to do with that,” she said, mouth pursing. “I was in contact with the victim on Friday.”
Holy crap. Seeger had mentioned the feds to Justine. Another possible reason why he was so nervous at the premiere. “Oh, man. Not a personal friend, I hope.”
Aberdeen’s gaze skimmed over the body bag. “No. It was the first time I’d met him.”
“He was a producer for the zombie movie, right?”
She signed the property sheet and the chain of custody and passed the clipboard to me. “I asked him for an early screening of the Zombies Are Among Us!! documentary,” she said in a tone so conversational every single one of my warning signals lit up. “Have you seen it?”
I faked a laugh. “Yeah, out at the Fest. It was pretty silly. And the way it was trying to get people paranoid and all was really dumb.” I paused. “No offense. I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Gruesome and inflammatory. I agree. I’m keeping an eye on the public response.” Her expression darkened. “There is enough hatred in this world without unfounded enmity turned on innocent people.” The forced rasp of her voice emphasized the sentiment. It was clear this issue was personal to her. Did it tie in to how she got her throat cut?
“Good thing the mockumentary is attached to a B-movie and not a blockbuster,” I said wryly.
Her piercing gaze lifted to my face. “The video was uploaded yesterday and has already had over a million views.” While I stood speechless in shock, Aberdeen smoothly extended a business card. “In case you remember anything else about the victim,” she said. “Or, if any thoughts come to you about the video.” She exited the cooler without waiting for an answer. I stuffed the business card into my pocket and followed her out.
Allen was waiting for us in the intake area, holding a blue folder that he passed to Agent Aberdeen. “Everything I can give you without a warrant is in there. It’s not much. Sorry. Preliminary tox screen showed cocaine and benzos in his system, but it’ll be at least a week before the full toxicology report is back.”
While she checked out the folder, I added my initials next to her signature on the property list. SA Sorsha Aberdeen.
SASA. That was the acronym on Seeger’s video file list. **use for deal with SASA. Double asterisk. And I specifically remembered that none of the double asterisk file names matched any of the clips used in the stupid mockumentary. Seeger had planned to pass files to her, but never got the chance.
“Miss Crawford? Mind if I take a photo?” Agent Aberdeen lifted her cell phone.
I startled out of my thoughts. “Of me?”
“Why yes. Of your makeup for the Zombie Fest.” She smiled, but her gaze was far too intent for my comfort. Beside her, Allen looked as disconcerted as if he’d been asked to drop trou in the middle of Main Street.
The cell phone remained steady before me like a rifle in a firing squad. She wanted a picture, but the natural pre-rot greyness and smudges of black under my eyes weren’t exactly photo-worthy. Not with all of the really cool costumes and makeup around town. “Maybe I should go touch it up first?” I said, suddenly desperate to find a mirror.
“No need. It’s perfect as is,” she said, voice and smile equally steely. “Humor me?”
It wasn’t a request. Refusing would draw suspicion. “Sure. It’s not much makeup. Just a little something I threw on this morning.”
The cell phone camera flashed before I finished speaking. I blinked away spots as it flashed again.
Expression triumphant, she turned the phone around for me to see. Along my left cheek, dead-grey skin hung in tatters with nasty red and black flesh below.
I clamped down on my dismay. “Looks better than I thought,” I choked out.
She tucked the phone away. “You have my card.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Allen said. At the door, he looked back and mouthed Don’t fucking move before exiting with Special Agent Sorsha Aberdeen.
Chapter 26
The instant the door closed, I tossed the clipboard onto the receiving desk and ran for the bathroom. Leaning close to the mirror, I poked at the squishy patch of rot on the side of my grey-as-wet-concrete face. A knot of worry tightened in my chest. I’d downed a whole bottle of brain smoothie not even fifteen minutes ago. I shouldn’t be rotting.
I dabbed at the spot with a wet paper towel and managed to slough off one of the skin tatters. Hands trembling, I crumpled the paper towel and dropped it into the trash can. I couldn’t go out in public with a rotted face, and makeup wouldn’t cover this. A big gauze pad could work. The tape might rip my skin, but I’d have to risk it. I tentatively scratched the inside of my arm, relieved and encouraged when the skin stayed intact. There was still a sliver of hope that I wasn’t about to fall apart completely. Yet.
